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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29868960">dear fellow traveler - V3 Rewrite</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ryugetsu/pseuds/Ryugetsu'>Ryugetsu</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Different Mastermind (Dangan Ronpa), Blood and Violence, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Dangan Ronpa Spoilers, Eventual Amami Rantaro/Saihara Shuichi, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, New Dangan Ronpa V3 Spoilers, Nonbinary Amami Rantaro, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Amami Rantaro, Saimami, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, amasai, sensitive topics, slow burn(?)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 01:41:26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,756</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29868960</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ryugetsu/pseuds/Ryugetsu</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>New survivors, new murders, new masterminds, and new twists. You know the drill.<br/>Saimami-centric.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Amami Rantaro/Saihara Shuichi, TBD - Relationship</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>30</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Content Warnings</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>This work contains potentially triggering topics, and these topics will be listed here. This list will be updated as chapters come out.</p><p> </p><p>This work includes:</p><p>In-depth descriptions of suicide (essential to the plot)</p><p> </p><p>Thank you!</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. under the moon</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Chapter 1 - Daily Life</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>    Why go through this again?</span>
  </em>
</p><p><span>The green-haired boy thought to himself, laying out on soft sheets, staring at the strange ceiling above him. A soft sigh escaped his lips, and he brought a hand to his head. </span><em><span>So I was a survivor of a previous killing game, huh?</span></em><span> The thought that he had survived this before brought some comfort to his mind, but it was quickly chased out by the simple fact that he didn’t remember any of it. What use would past experiences be without the memory of them?</span> <span>Once again, he thought back as far as he could remember, searching.</span></p><p> </p><p>
  
  <em>
    <span>Rantarou had been in New York, searching for one of his sisters. The billboards flashed brilliantly in the sky, nearly disorienting him. People pushed past him on either side, strangers talking loudly into their phones who paid him no mind. It was incredibly different from Japan, but he had learned how to navigate crowds in his travels. A flash of green swept by in the busy crowd bustling around him, and he felt his heart leap into his throat. Gritting his teeth, he started pushing his way through the throng of people, manners forgotten. Blood roared in his ears, and his vision narrowed, swimming his way to where his sister had appeared. A sharp pain shot through his foot and he winced, but he didn’t stop. Days passed within minutes, hours within seconds, and finally, he pushed through the wall of people to find-</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>Nothing. A dog park stretched out in front of him, the wire fence separating the bright faux grass from the cold concrete. A few dogs leaned against the fence and barked at him, as he stood there, panting. A wave of disappointment washed over him, and he felt shaky. She wasn’t here.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>Before he had time to formulate a thought, there were hands grabbing at him from all sides, and a scream was tearing from his throat. A cloth was forced over his eyes and mouth, and his vision fell away with his voice. Fingers gripped his limbs tightly, and though he thrashed, they had a solid grip on him. He felt them dragging him, and he continued to struggle, before he was thrown backwards. His back scraped against the ground, and he heard a loud thud, then something else was placed to his face. Despite his struggling, his consciousness slipped away from him, and he was enveloped by warm blackness.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>Next thing he knew, his eyes were open wide and his limbs were thrashing wildly at the metal box around him. His breathing was erratic, and his fists throbbed. He felt his balance shift, and he was thrown against the wall as a loud thud resounded. His nose smashed into the wall, and lines of metal dug into his forehead. The shock of it made him stop for a moment, holding his breath. Then he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, pressing his palms against the wall and lifting his face from the cold metal. The little light that had filtered into the box had disappeared, so he extended his hand and brushed his fingers against the lines of metal that had jabbed into his skin. There were three wide holes in the wall, and a colder material blocked the holes from the outside. He moved his hands to the side and felt the walls. A click sounded in his head as he realized where he was.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>He slammed his shoulder into the wall next to him, and he felt the locker slide on the floor a bit. Throwing himself again, the locker slid further. His shoulder was already starting to ache, but he continued anyway, until he felt the locker tip, and he fell onto his bruised shoulder. Light filtered in through the slits in the metal, and he lifted his foot as much as he could and slammed it into the door. It popped open with a bang, crashing against the floor, and he crawled out of the locker, heaving for air.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  
  <span>Rantarou pulled his hand over his face, sighing again, ignoring how sweaty his palm was. </span>
  <em>
    <span>God, what an idiot I was being. I know better than to panic like that. I’m incredibly lucky to be the first one to wake up. I don’t know what I would have done if someone had run in and found me crawling out of a tipped-over locker. How embarrassing.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
  <span>And still, he had no memory of participating in any other killing game. Picking up his Monopad from beside him, he clicked it on and watched as the words </span>
  <em>
    <span>Survivor Perk </span>
  </em>
  <span>flashed across the screen, followed by his name. Loading up the map, he swiped upwards and read the note to himself again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  
  <em>
    <span>“The mastermind who is behind the killing game is hiding somewhere within the academy. Your best chance of exposing them is when Monokuma needs a spare. At that time, the mastermind will go to the library’s hidden room. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>    To prove this hint is accurate, I will predict something. The first thing you will remember is the Ultimate Hunt.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>    Only share this information with people who you know you can trust. How you determine that will mean your life or your death.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>    Rantarou Amami”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Rantarou put his Monopad back down, continuing to stare at the ceiling. He still had no way of knowing whether the message was right or not; he had yet to remember anything, let alone whatever the ‘Ultimate Hunt’ was. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Did anyone else know? Could I even ask them?</span>
  </em>
  <span> There wasn’t anyone in this academy that he could trust. He was alone here.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  
  <span>Sighing, he turned on his side and fidgeted with his rings. His whole body was sore and aching from the Death Road of Despair he and the other students had attempted earlier, but he knew some of the others were surely feeling worse. Flipping onto his stomach, he reached over to his bedside table and flicked the lamp off. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Well, there’s nothing I can do right now; I might as well get some sleep.</span>
  </em>
  <span> The blanket was soft against his skin, and he quickly drifted off to sleep.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>    Pushing the dining hall doors open, Rantarou greeted the students who had already gathered there. Kirumi Tojo, the Ultimate Maid, was busy moving plates of food from the kitchen to the dining table. Miu Iruma was sitting in one of the chairs, a cup of coffee between her hands. Ryoma Hoshi sat at the far end of the table, and Maki Harukawa sat a few seats away from Iruma. Kokichi Ouma was following Tojo back and forth, seemingly trying to get on her nerves.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Rantarou chuckled to himself at Ouma’s antics, and took a seat beside Iruma. She flinched, and looked at him with her eyebrows furrowed. Rantarou gave her a curious look, and she quickly turned her head away from him. The green-haired boy simply shrugged.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>    Soon, everyone else arrived, and a ripple of relief swept through the students. Rantarou released a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Kehehe… I’m glad. It looks as though there are no victims.” Shinguji said what everyone had been thinking, yet was too afraid to say out loud. Kiibo quickly cut in with an “of course!” He seemed to be the only one not worried, Rantarou noted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Ouma put his hands behind his head and turned to Akamatsu. “By the way… are you okay, Akamatsu-chan?” Rantarou saw Momota deadpan out of the corner of his eye.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Huh? What do you mean?” Akamatsu started, clearly aware of what the purple boy was referring to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Well… you looked really bummed out after everyone started blaming you yesterday.” Ouma indulged the blond, smirking. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “H-Hey… What are you doing all of-” Shirogane tried to ask, but she was quickly cut off by Ouma, who was paying her no mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Seriously, you guys are so mean. Poor girl…” Ouma trailed off, staring at the ground. “She tried her best to encourage everyone, and you sore losers got mad at her anyway.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “What’s the point of bringing that up again?” Kiibo remarked, his hair bristling. Rantarou wondered how that was possible.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Actually… didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>blame Akamatsu-chan first?” Chabashira shot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Eh? N-Now it’s my fault? Why are you guys ganging up on me?” Wide purple eyes gazed around at the other students, and Rantarou rolled his eyes. Suddenly, Ouma burst into tears, crying loudly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “You guys are terrible! So horrible, so mean!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Rantarou recoiled in shock, before shaking his head. This one was going to be trouble, he already knew.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Hmph, you’re too noisy. Cut it out.” Hoshi declared, leaving no room for argument. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “But it’s true.” Momota said, to Rantarou’s surprise. “Everyone blamed Kaede without taking any responsibility themselves.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Hey, come on now.” Rantarou cut in, putting up his hands. “Everyone was probably just tired.” People tend to lose their tempers when they get tired, he knew that. It wasn’t really anyone’s fault they were acting irrationally.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Shut it!” Momota snapped, causing Rantarou to flinch. “That’s no excuse!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “No, it’s okay! It doesn’t bother me!” Akamatsu interjected, waving her hands. “It’s just…” She looked down, rubbing her arms. “I should have been more considerate of everyone’s feelings. I was too focused on the tunnel…” The blond looked back up, a sad smile on her face. “So, I’m sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Momota huffed, looking away. After a moment, he spoke again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Alright, well… If you’re okay with it, then so am I.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Phew, cool beans!” Ouma remarked, ignoring the mood in the room. “Now everything’s settled!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “...But you did blame her first, didn’t you?” Kiibo asked, still bristling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Well, that was a lie.” Ouma threw his hands behind his head, leaned to the side, and smiled. “Y’know, one of those lies to make us more united or whatever.” Rantarou thought that was bull, but he didn’t say anything. “Did you know half my lies are actually told with good intentions?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Now </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>sounds like a lie.” Yumeno mumbled, speaking for the first time since she arrived in the dining hall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Let’s just forget about it and discuss something else.” Akamatsu suggested. “Okay? Let’s all think about ways to get out of here.” A confident smile appeared on her face. Rantarou couldn’t help but smile as well.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>    Abruptly, a black-and-white bear popped out of the floor, it’s shrill voice echoing through the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Before you do that, I have an announcement!” Rantarou felt his stomach drop, and he could tell by the expressions on the other students’ faces that they were feeling the same way. Akamatsu screamed in surprise at the sudden appearance, and Shirogane shouted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to not surprise you,” the bear said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “So you did mean to surprise us,” decided Yumeno, deadpanning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Well? Your announcement?” Rantarou asked. This wasn’t going to be any good, he knew.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “It’s not terribly important, but… It’s easier to stay alive by being an obvious goody two-shoes, right? Being thrust into a killing game doesn’t mean you’ll be able to kill someone easily… So I figured I’d ease you guys into the killing game by giving you motivation to kill.” Monokuma put an arm behind his head, speaking nonchalantly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “...Motivation to kill?” Harukawa repeated, her face unreadable. Rantarou wondered what she was thinking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “In short, a motive!” The bear elaborated. “That oughta add some mystery to the proceedings! Even if a killer is exposed, they could whip up a sob story to deceive everyone!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Wh-What are you saying? Your logic is impossible to understand…!” Kiibo shouted, bristling even harder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “I will now announce the first motive! Make sure you record this moment for posterity!” The bear laughed, a sound that sent shivers down Rantarou’s spine.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>    “Now then, the special motive I’ve prepared is called the First Blood Perk!” The bear spread his arms out, his sharp-toothed grin stretching wide across his face. His voice dripped with delight, and Rantarou felt his stomach flip.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Wow! For the first murder that occurs, no class trial will be held! Can you believe it? That means the first one to kill someone will get to graduate, no strings attached!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “No class trial will be held?” Harukawa asked, raising an eyebrow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “I’m sorry that I made the class trial seem more important than it really is… So for the first murder, I’ve decided not to hold a class trial at all.” Monokuma raised a hand nonchalantly. “Please just relax, calm down, and kill! After all, the first one’s free!” He laughed his menacing laugh, and Rantarou saw Akamatsu shiver. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Rantarou tuned out the conversation, thinking. Everyone was presently working together, somewhat. If one person killed, they would get to graduate without the threat of a trial. Giving an advantage to the one person who doesn’t cooperate was…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “I see… The prisoner’s dilemma. How very clever of you, Monokuma.” He said, interrupting the conversation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Huh? What’s that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “We all know it’s better to cooperate rather than betray each other, right? But if you don’t cooperate, you receive some benefit that no one else gets. It’s an incentive to betray the group to give yourself an advantage. With that in the back of all of our minds, we’re less likely to cooperate. That’s Monokuma’s plan.” He brought his hand to his chin, the gears still turning in his head. “To make a non-cooperative game that tanks Akamatsu-chan’s plan to get us to cooperate.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “What?” Akamatsu flinched, the spike of hair on her head standing on edge.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “And if a murder were to occur… it’d be even more unlikely that we’d cooperate.” Saihara caught on to Rantarou’s thoughts, muttering aloud.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “It’s likely he created this perk for that sole purpose.” Shiinguji agreed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Right? I bet you can’t stand all this tension in the air, right? So it’s better to just kill!” Monokuma cheered, smiling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Wh-What…? You…” Chabashira took a step backward, throwing her hands up as if to defend herself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “It seems you are quite serious about forcing us to participate in this killing game.” Tojo remarked, her glare sharp. “What exactly is your objective?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “His objective doesn’t matter! I’m through letting him have his way!” Momota interjected, lunging forward. “I’ve had enough!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>    Then, they heard the tell-tale call of the Monokubs, and momentarily they appeared in the dining hall. If Rantarou didn’t think he felt sick earlier, he surely did now. He knew why they were here.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Hell yeah! Looks like we got ourselves a volunteer!” Monokid shouted, swinging his guitar around.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Finally, it’s time for the Exisals!” Agreed Monotarou.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “We won’t let you lay a hand on Daddy! We want Daddy to smile every day!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Youse bastards better pay attention! This is what happens when you mess with us!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Momota started sweating, looking sick. “Wh… What? What are you guys planning to do?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “P-Please, don’t!” Shouted Kiibo, taking a step forward.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Run, Kaito!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    The Exisals appeared in the doorway of the dining hall, clicking and whirring as they moved closer. They flashed forward, and-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>    Smash.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>    The sound of crushing metal grated in Rantarou’s ears, and a flash of terror swept over him. A deep, pure flash of complete terror. The world flashed away for a moment, and the next moment he was staring at the Exisal, and at Monokuma under its foot. A gasp swept through the dining hall, and Rantarou thought he heard a faint ticking. Then, a bright flash of light assaulted his eyes, and he threw an arm up to shield his vision. He felt bits of metal fly at him and scratch his skin as the robotic bear exploded, and he screwed his eyes shut.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    The room was silent. Rantarou lowered his arm and saw the other students staring, dumbfounded. He suppressed a smile. Their reactions must have been the same as his own in the first killing game, but though he didn’t remember it, he was familiar with this situation.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>    “F-Father!?” Monotarou was the first to break the silence, his voice quivering.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Wahhhh! Daddy got turned into a pile of scrap metal!” Monophanie wailed, crying (somehow).</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Th-This is Monodam’s fault, somehow!” The blue bear insisted, while the green bear deadpanned.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>    “Wh-What is this…? What’s going on…?” Chabashira whispered, shaking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “I’m not sure what’s going on, but…” Hoshi replied, tugging on his hat. “Monokuma’s in pieces.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “S-Serves him right! He got just what he deserved!” The astronaut protested, trying to act tough despite his shaking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Do not celebrate just yet. I’m certain he has a spare that will appear momentarily.” Tojo said just what Rantarou was thinking, and he had to fight the urge to smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Th-There is no spare! Don’t trivialize life like that!” Monophanie shouted, still crying.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “What?” Akamatsu asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “When Father was still alive, he used to tell us cubs… that we must cherish life because we’re like snowflakes-- unique in every way.” Cried Monotarou, putting on a show. It reminded Rantarou of Ouma.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “If only one existed, then does this mean Monokuma is dead?” Harukawa ventured.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Monophanie ignored her. “Poor Daddy! Let’s at least bury him with full honors!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Yeah. We’ll cook him low and slow to lock in the flavor.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “While we’re at it… we should toss in some carrots and potatoes, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Ooh, maybe add some leftover curry, too? Y’know, the sweet kind-- my favorite!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “You’ll want an extra-large side of rice too, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Now that we’re the new headmasters, we gotta eat more so we can get stronger.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    The Monokubs chanted their exit line and spun out of existence, some of the students staring, dumbfounded. Everyone stood in silence for a moment.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>    “U-Umm… What’s going on?” Shirogane asked, speaking everyone’s mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Hmm… Everything’s a complete mess now,” contemplated Ouma. “But if there’s no final boss…” He perked up, smiling innocently. “...then that means this killing game is cancelled!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Huh!? Cancelled!?” Gokuhara started, his voice loud in the dining hall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “I don’t think so.” Rantarou spoke up, recalling the note to himself. “Monokuma’s just a robot. There has to be someone controlling him.” Yes, the mastermind who controlled Monokuma. Surely he had a spare somewhere, despite what the Monokubs said. The Mastermind wouldn’t be so careless.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Ah-haha, don’t be such a worrywart! Everything’s definitely over now!” Ouma laughed, bouncing on his heels. “With the mastermind gone, continuing this game is pretty much impossible! Which means… we win!” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, if he only knew, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Rantarou thought.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Yay! We did it!” Yonaga laughed, clearly just going along with it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “So we’re not in danger anymore?” Chabashira spoke hopefully, pressing her fingers together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Shirogane spoke, but no one caught what she said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “W-Wait a minute! We don’t know that yet--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Like a switch, Ouma flipped sides. “Akamatsu-chan, quit being a buzzkill! Everyone’s still annoyed about what you did yesterday!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “B-But I didn’t mean it like that--” The blond tried to protest, but she was cut off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Or… is there still something you would have us do, Akamatsu-san?” Shiinguji asked, touching the brim of his hat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Don’t tell me you wanna take on that underground passage again!?” shouted Iruma.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “...Quiet.” Harukawa’s voice cut through the chatter, soft yet stern. “We know it’s impossible.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “...S-Sorry…” Akamatsu looked down, rubbing her arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Whatevs, looks like we’re done here. Phew, what a relief.” Ouma threw his hands behind his head again, still rocking back and forth. Rantarou threw a glance at Saihara, who was pulling at the brim of his hat and looking at the floor.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>    Everyone went their separate ways, forgetting about breakfast. Rantarou went to the library, pushing the doors open with a creak. He had always liked libraries, he found it easier to think there. Plus, he had to check out the hidden door. The note on his Monopad had said that the mastermind would go there once Monokuma needed a spare, and it looked like he needed a spare now. He still didn’t know whether he should trust the message, but it was all he had. He might as well check it out, right?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    The library was musty, and Rantarou could practically see the dust floating in the air. Still, he took a deep breath, the scent of old books filling his nose. Glancing around, he saw that he was the only one present. Good; he wouldn’t be able to look at the door if someone else was there. He strode across the room, glancing at his Monopad to make sure he was going to the right place. Stopping in front of one of the bookshelves, he examined it for a moment. Was it one of those cliche secret-book-lever doors you see in movies? There were a lot of books to go through and pull each one individually. He grabbed the side of the bookshelf and gave an experimental pull; to his surprise, it slid out easily. He backed up, sliding the bookshelf out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    A large door stood hidden behind the bookshelf, split in half. One side was black, and the other was white; the tell-tale mark of Monokuma, and therefore the mastermind. Rantarou placed a hand on the cold metal, and it sent a shiver down his spine. Just on the other side of this door, was whatever machine created the Monokuma robots. The key to ending this game was right here.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Catching a glimpse out of the corner of his eye, Rantarou turned to the wall next to the door. A gray panel was set into the wall, with a slit gaping open. A screen sat above it, blank. </span>
  <em>
    <span>A card reader. And the mastermind is the only one who has the card, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Rantarou concluded. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Forcing the door open would violate the regulations, and we almost found out how that ends earlier. There’s no way for us to get in, except to get the card. And I doubt the mastermind will let go of it that easily.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>    Well, that was all he could do for now. He stepped back, and the door slid closed on its own. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Of course, the mastermind can’t close it from inside the secret room. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He took another step back, and placed his chin in his hand. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Soon. Soon, this will all be over.</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. i saw you standing in the shadows and your eyes were blue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>FREE TIME: START!</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Rantarou paced his room, hand on his chin.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <em>
    <span>A time limit? Are they even allowed to impose a time limit? Has that been done before? No, that doesn’t matter. If someone doesn’t die before the time limit is up, the mastermind will unleash a swarm of Monokumas to kill us. That’s… ridiculous, frankly. But I don’t doubt the mastermind would do it. The mastermind has to create those Monokumas first, though. And in order to do that they’ll need to go into the hidden room. So all I need to do is catch them going into the room just before the time limit is up, and expose them. But, until then… there’s nothing I can do. I just have to wait and be ready when the time comes.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
  <span>Rantarou was not satisfied with this. He felt like there was something else he should be doing; if he was sitting still he wasn’t being productive. He couldn’t even sit still, and usually he was so relaxed. Now he just felt unsatisfied. It was too easy.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>But again, there was nothing he could do for now. Rather than thinking about what he couldn’t do, he resolved to think about what he could do. Working with the other students here was going to be essential to surviving this killing game; why shouldn’t he get to know his peers a bit? It would also provide him some insight into who the mastermind was. If it was someone like Gokuhara, Rantarou knew he would be in trouble. He could probably handle someone like Yumeno or Shirogane, though. It would be beneficial for him to have an idea of who he could be facing when the time limit ran out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  
  <span>Rantarou slipped out of his dorm room, clicking the door shut behind him. No one was in the dorm area, so he went outside, the cool afternoon breeze ruffling his soft matcha-green hair. He took a moment to take a deep breath; the air here was inadequate compared to the air on some of his travels. The sooner he got out of here, the sooner he could keep looking for his sisters.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>The boy made his way into the academy, wandering through the halls, searching for his peers. He pushed open the door to the warehouse, startled to find Saihara standing there, searching one of the shelves. He walked up to the boy, who didn’t seem to notice him. Standing next to him, he took a moment to get a closer look at the detective.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>His hair was a deep blue-green, although it looked more blue. It was long for a boy’s haircut, the longest strands curling around his chin lightly. It was smooth, shining with the reflection of the warehouse light. A hat covered most of his hair, though. It had three white lines on the side, and a silver star adorned the side before the brim started. His skin was pale, and his face was clear and smooth. Rantarou noticed the boy had three little triangles under his eyes; actually, his lashes were very pretty. His eyes were a light yellow color, one Rantarou didn’t even know was possible for people to have. His uniform was dark with lighter stripes, the collar hiding most of his neck. He looked small, yet strong in a way. Yes, his appearance certainly fit his personality; shy, reserved, and a little bit gloomy. He reminded Rantarou of the girls he often saw in Hot Topic, when he used to go there with his sisters.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Rantarou realized he had been standing there a tad too long; he cleared his throat, and Saihara jumped, spinning around to face him.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“A-ah! Amami-kun! S-Sorry, I didn’t see you there.” Saihara tugged at his hat, and Rantarou smiled.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“No worries. What are you looking for?”</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Saihara’s eyes widened a fraction in surprise, before he cleared his throat and his expression. “Ah, I was looking for a notebook. I wanted to write some of my thoughts down… it helps me keep things organized.”</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Rantarou smiled again and tipped his head. “Would you like me to help you look?”</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Again, Saihara seemed surprised. “A-Ah, yes, I would appreciate it. Thank you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  
  <span>Rantarou took the left side of the warehouse, and Saihara took the right. They searched through the shelves, reorganizing things and occasionally calling out to each other when they found something interesting. Rantarou found an old student ID belonging to a brown-haired boy he didn’t recognize, and Saihara found a used pocketbook with scribbles inside. Neither of them knew what those kinds of things were doing in the warehouse, but it was anyone’s guess, really. Finally, after hours of searching and digging through junk, the boys stopped and met each other in the middle of the warehouse.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“Please tell me you found something.” Rantarou pleaded. Saihara shook his head. They both stood there, staring at the floor in disappointment.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>…</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“The store.”</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“What?” Saihara asked, looking up. Rantarou was staring straight ahead, his eyes wide.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“They probably sell notebooks at the school store.”</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  
  <span>Saihara slowly left the warehouse, Rantarou trailing after him. They made their way to the school store, a few doors down, and as soon as they walked in their eyes landed on a classic black-and-white spiral notebook, displayed on the shelves. Rantarou only sighed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  
  <span>“Thanks for helping me, Amami-kun. I really appreciate it.” Saihara remarked, the wind gently brushing past the strands of hair that escaped the hold of his hat. The sky was light, although Rantarou doubted it was real. It was probably just a projection. Still, it was almost nice.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“It’s no problem, I don’t mind. I’m glad I got to hang out with you; you’re a pretty cool guy, Saihara-kun.”</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Saihara flushed, pulling his hat down over his eyes. “T-Thank you. I-I’m really not anything special, but I appreciate it nonetheless.”</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Rantarou stopped walking, and Saihara turned to face him, eyebrow quirked.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“Hey, why do you doubt yourself so much?”</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“W-What?”</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Rantarou glanced to the side, shoving his hands in his pockets. “You always put down on yourself, always talking about how you’re not a real detective and how you’re not as great as people say you are… Why?”</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Saihara stared, dumbfounded. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Does he really think so low of himself that he’s surprised I’m saying this?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
  <span>“Ah. W-Well, that’s because it’s true. I… I’m really not a good detective.”</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“But you’re an Ultimate. How can you not be a good detective if you’re… the Ultimate Detective?”</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Saihara cast his gaze down, turning his head to the side. “It was a fluke, really… I just got lucky.”</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“What do you mean?” Rantarou tipped his head.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“Well…” Saihara turned back to face Rantarou, tugging his hat down. “I got my Ultimate title because I solved a murder case that the police couldn’t. But, I didn’t really do anything special. I just happened to find some evidence that the police had missed. If they had found it, they would have figured it out much quicker than I could.”</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Rantarou blinked. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He solved a murder case not even the police could solve?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
  <span>“But they didn’t find it.” Saihara looked up, surprised. “You did. That proves that you’re a good detective; you’re thorough enough to catch evidence anyone else would miss. Not just anyone has that talent, you know.”</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Saihara looked off to the side again, pulling on the brim of his hat. Rantarou really hated that hat. “But…”</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“No buts.” The green-haired boy cut him off, startling him. “They don’t give out Ultimate titles to just anyone. If you’ve been given the title of Ultimate Detective, I have no doubt that you deserve it. Have a little faith in yourself.”</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>The detective smiled gently, and it was clear to Rantarou that he didn’t believe what he said. “I appreciate it, Amami-kun. Thank you.” Well, it would have to do.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“It’s no problem, really. I really do have faith in you, so don’t beat yourself up too much.”</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“Thank you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>—</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  
  <span>Saihara and Rantarou went their separate ways, and eventually, Rantarou found himself in the game room. He pushed the door open, letting it swing shut behind him as he entered. A few arcade cabinets stood against the walls. To the left was a long counter, and to the right was a couch facing a tv with a few consoles hooked to it. Rantarou chose to approach one of the arcade machines, resting his hand on the joystick of the obsolete console. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    His rings clicked against the material as he slid his fingers over the buttons. He felt strongly familiar with this. It was very faint, but little memories were there. Screams and laughter echoing through a room, accompanied by dings and whistles and chimes and beeps. The smell of greasy food and germs left behind by other children. Someone standing next to him as he rapidly pushed buttons, until he deliberately missed one and let them win. It was so familiar to him, but it wasn’t any more than a vague feeling. No real memories came to the surface of his mind. Still, it brought him joy, somehow. Like reuniting with an old friend from when he was too young to remember. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Rantarou stood there for a moment, staring into the inky blackness of the screen. Evidently, the console was unplugged, so he wouldn’t be able to play it unless he found an outlet anyway. Still, he felt glued to the machine. His breath caught in his throat as he stood there in silence, staring at himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Then, the cabinet moved.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    It jerked to the side, wobbling, and Rantarou recoiled violently. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Arcade cabinets don’t move.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>    “You can’t win me, Amami-kun! I can’t be beat!” An annoying voice floated out of the machine, and Rantarou put a hand to his chest, exhaling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Oh my god, you really got me there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Ni~shi~shi!” Purple hair emerged from behind the console, and Ouma’s smirking face greeted the still-sweating Rantarou. His hair stood up in a few places, and his white jacket was speckled with dust and dirt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “What were you doing back there?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Well, I’ve always wanted to know what it looked like inside these things, haven’t you, Amami-kun?” He tipped his head innocently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Were you </span>
  <em>
    <span>inside </span>
  </em>
  <span>the arcade cabinet? Ouma-kun, that’s really dangerous, you know.” Rantarou remarked, narrowing his eyes in disappointment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Jeez, what are you, my mom?” Ouma threw his hands behind his head and started rocking back and forth on his heels. “I might have to start calling you A-mommy from now on!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Please never say that to me ever again.” Rantarou deadpanned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “You’re no fun!” Ouma pouted. Rantarou only shook his head with a small smirk.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>    Abruptly, Ouma’s face was right in front of him, causing Rantarou to flinch. Ouma didn’t move, however.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Let’s play a game!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Uh, sure.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Yay!” Ouma grabbed Rantarou’s hand and pulled him over to the couch. Or rather, led him to the couch, with how weak the small boy was. He swung Rantarou onto the cushions and stood in front of him, hands to his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Hmm, now, what shall we play? Oh, I know!” He turned and started fiddling with the consoles on the floor in front of the television. Rantarou watched, overcome with curiosity. Soon the tv flickered on, and a racing game appeared on the screen, the pixelated grass bright to Rantarou’s eyes. Ouma handed him a controller, before plopping down on the couch next to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Here’s the deal, pretty boy! If I win, I get to ask you whatever favor I want, whenever!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “And if I win?” Rantarou asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Hmm, I guess if you win I’ll do you a favor. Ready?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Rantarou quickly turned back to the screen to see two cars on the track; the purple car disappeared off of the screen just as he turned, leaving the green car idle at the start. “Hey, no fair!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    The track was probably at medium difficulty, and while Rantarou did have that strange familiarity with video games, it turned out that racing games were not his forte. He kept sliding off of the road and bumping into obstacles, the joystick mechanic being very slippery. He passed the finish line a good ten seconds after Ouma did.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    He put his controller down and turned to the purple gremlin, wondering what he could possibly want. He was already staring at him intently, and Rantarou only gave an awkward smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “So! Tell me, cabbage-man; what do you know about this whole situation?” Ouma’s voice was deeper than Rantarou had ever heard it, and it almost unsettled him. He was not used to seeing the little maniac be so serious. They locked eyes for a moment, and Rantarou contemplated how much to tell him. Obviously this boy liked to cause trouble, but he was also very very smart; smarter than he let on. He would be good to have as an ally, but he just didn’t know if he could trust the gremlin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “I’ve heard of killing games like this before.” He offered. Ouma only continued to stare. “Uh, I used to travel a lot, before all of… this. I’ve seen a few killing games happen, so it’s not all unfamiliar.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “You like to watch killing games, Amami-kun? How dark! Ni~shi~shi!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “No, it’s not like that.” Rantarou reasoned, grasping at threads of his memories. “I’ve visited some small native villages before. Some of them hold killing games as a celebration. The winner earns honor and glory and riches. I just happened to pass by while they were holding one of these games, and I got roped into the celebration.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “So you’re just familiar with danger, huh? That’s it?” Purple eyes bore into Rantarou’s green ones, almost like he was searching for a lie. Well, he wasn’t going to find one; Rantarou </span>
  <em>
    <span>had </span>
  </em>
  <span>been telling the truth, technically. He had been to a lot of dangerous places in his travels, and his story wasn’t false.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Yeah, pretty much. I know I look like some pretty playboy, but I’m pretty smart, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Ni~shi~shi, well, you’re not wrong about being pretty!” Rantarou flushed at this, Ouma’s face incredibly close to his own. He could feel himself starting to sweat, and he hoped Ouma would get out of his face soon. It was too uncomfortable.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    As if reading Rantarou’s mind, Ouma sat back and allowed Rantarou some breathing room. He still had that innocent smile on his face, like a child. “Don’t worry, Amami-chan, big brother Ouma will look after you!” Rantarou rolled his eyes and gently pushed the smaller boy, accidentally knocking him over. But, to Rantarou’s relief, he only sat back up and laughed. Rantarou couldn’t help but laugh as well.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>    Chatter filled the dining hall as the students sat at the table, stuffing their faces with food. Laughter and the occasional shout bounced off of the walls, filling Rantarou’s ears. He sat in his chair, facing the side as he scooped rice from his bowl. Ouma was poking Iruma with his chopsticks, irritating her more and more by the second. Harukawa sat on Rantarou’s other side, trying to ignore the tomfoolery. Akamatsu was chatting with Gokuhara, who took up much of the table. Momota had apparently found something to talk about with Shirogane, and was gesticulating wildly as he told some grand tale. Rantarou tuned into the first conversation that caught his attention.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Prepare to be amazed, as I, the amazing Yumeno Himiko, make your dinner taste amazing!” The red haired girl muttered a chant, before gesturing her hands in a ‘poof’ motion over Chabashira’s bowl. The martial artist picked up her chopsticks and tasted her food, closing her eyes and whimpering in pleasure.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Wow, Yumeno-chan! Your magic is incredible!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Nyeh… I know.” She seemed to flush, but honestly, Rantarou couldn’t tell. The little witch didn’t emote much.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Where did you learn to use magic, Yumeno-chan? Maybe Tenko could incorporate it into Neo-Aikido!” Chabashira was shoveling food into her mouth now; Rantarou briefly wondered if Yumeno really did use magic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “My master taught me. My master was the best mage in the world.” Yumeno seemed to slump a little at this, but again, she didn’t express her emotions very much so Rantarou couldn’t tell.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    And if Rantarou couldn’t tell, Chabashira certainly couldn’t tell either.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Oooh, your master! Tenko would love to meet him someday! Tenko’s sure he’s not as good at magic as you, of cou-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Yes, he is.” Yumeno cut the martial artist off. “He’s the best mage in the world.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   B“Ah, but Yumeno-chan, you’re the Ultimate Mage!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “He’s the best mage in the world.” Yumeno was not budging, so Chabashira backed off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Okay, Tenko trusts you! Still, Tenko’d love to meet him!” She smiled at the little witch sweetly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “You can’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “You can’t meet him. He’s gone.” Rantarou recognized now that she wasn’t in a good mood; Chabashira seemed to understand as well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Oh! Oh, Tenko’s so sorry Yumeno-chan! Tenko didn’t know!” She waved her hands around frantically, sweating.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “It’s okay…” Still, Yumeno seemed down. Chabashira busied herself trying to cheer her up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>    Rantarou felt a tap on his shoulder, and turned to see Harukawa looking at him. He quirked a brow in curiosity.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Momota-san wants to talk to you.” Momota was looking eagerly at Rantarou, piquing the green boy’s curiosity.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Hey, Amami-kun! Tell us about yourself!” Momota asked, and Shirogane nodded. “We know you don’t remember your talent, but surely you have hobbies and a family.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Oh, yeah. Uhm, where should I start?” Rantarou was a bit nervous, sharing things about himself with his fellow killing game participants, but he reminded himself that in order to gain trust, he had to give trust.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Do you have any siblings?” Momota asked, his eyes sparkling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Yeah, I have 12 sisters, actually.” Rantarou smiled; he always liked seeing the shocked expressions on people’s faces when he told them how many sisters he had. Sure enough, they delivered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “W-What!? Twelve!?” Momota’s face was the most satisfying, definitely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Well, most of them are step-sisters.” Momota calmed down at this, but Rantarou continued smiling. “I love my sisters more than anything else in the world.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “That’s sweet, Amami-kun!” Shirogane remarked, and Rantarou chuckled. Momota started talking about his family, and Rantarou became immersed in listening. There wasn’t any harm in getting to know his classmates.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Each ‘game chapter’ is going to be split into three written chapters: Daily Life, Free Time, and Deadly Life. And for each Free Time chapter, you’ll be able to choose who Rantarou spends time with next!! The top two choices will be picked, and who knows? Maybe your choices will effect the ending... ;)<br/>Vote for the next free time here: http://www.strawpoll.me/42781135</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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